


Lick It Like A Lollipop

by 1dfetusfics, tomlinstarofthesea



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Child!Harry, Incest, M/M, Oral, Shower Sex, Watersports, age gap, blowjob, daddy!louis, father/son relationship, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1dfetusfics/pseuds/1dfetusfics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinstarofthesea/pseuds/tomlinstarofthesea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis loves pee and he loves it even better when it’s his son’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lick It Like A Lollipop

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt:  
> Basically Louis (30) has always had a kink of pee. Since Harry his son (8) was born and peed Louis would sprout a boner. One day Harry pees on Louis and he flips out. Louis makes Harry pee in Louis mouth and then they have sex. You can decide what kind of sex.

Louis was still a teenager when he came to terms with his rather unusual kink; or at least that what his mates made him think since none of them found the thought of piss even the tiniest bit appealing.  
  
But he did. He still remembers the day as clearly as if it was yesterday, his girlfriend has been squirming in the passenger seat, desperate for the loo when he’s suddenly sported a boner which drove him crazy. Just the thought of her losing it had this usually so welcomed heat burning in his groin. It took him a while to build up the courage to talk this through with her, but he was lucky enough to have a really understanding girlfriend whom happily experimented.

+++

A lot has changed since then.  
  
To begin with, he isn’t a teenager anymore, rather a grown man who just realised that he still hasn’t figured out his life at the scary age of 30.  
  
Then there is his beautiful, lively young boy, giving his life some kind of meaning while Louis is still trying to grow up himself. Harry is eight now, unbelievably bright for his age and all wild chocolaty curls and too big green eyes that look into Louis’s soul. His mother has left them just after Harry’s birth. It hasn’t been sudden since Hannah’s pregnancy wasn’t exactly the best time for Louis to come out.  
  
He had his suspicions for a long time. The sex with his girlfriends has been alright but he never felt anything close to what his friends described. At first he thought it was just bragging, exaggerating but on his 21st he got absolutely pissed with his best friend Zayn and had somehow ended up in bed with him. From that day on, mind-blowing orgasms have been a thing he knew. It took him another couple of weeks and loads of disappointing sex to accept his sexuality, though and it took a positive pregnancy test to actually have the nerves to break it off with Hannah. She has been understanding and while he’s been supporting during her pregnancy, she’s been supporting him embracing his homosexuality.

+++

Louis had to learn the hard way that being a single father isn’t an easy job. It isn’t only the lack of sleep or spare time, the mess in their tiny flat or the fact that Louis can’t cook for shit and struggles to provide a healthy diet for his baby boy.  
  
Something simple like changing nappies made Louis realise that life’s a bitch.  
  
Harry has been 18 months old, his brown curls already prominent and though every mother at daycare scolded Louis for not getting his son a haircut, he couldn’t bring himself to chop them of; he absolutely loved those soft ringlets.  
  
Louis’s been trying to teach his boy how to use the potty, looking forward to eventually saving the money he had to spend on those bloody nappies. Though Haz quite liked the potty, there were of course days when he just wouldn’t use it; weeing whenever he wanted to was just so much easier. Consequently, Louis made him go once an hour, taking his nappy off, doing a stupid potty dance to keep his son entertained and seated who’d usually laugh at him, joyfully clapping his hands. That particular day hasn’t been any different, yet Harry hasn’t had a wee since breakfast and Louis was determined to get him to use the potty instead of wetting his nappy again. But it hasn’t been any use, his gorgeous baby boy was giggling into his tiny fists all through the potty dance, watching Louis’s antics carefully, the potty, however, was still empty. Defeated, Louis picked him up and took him to his changing unit which Hazza was slowly getting too big for. In hindsight, his life would have been so much easier if he just bought those pull-ups. His left hand on his boy’s round and chubby tummy, his right had been blindly grabbing a new nappy as a tiny voice suddenly squealed, “Wee-wee, Daddy!”  
  
Louis barely had enough time to register what was going to happen, frantically pulling at the nappy which was – of fucking course – stuck as his son started peeing, a spurt of the warm, golden liquid hitting Louis’s chest, then his neck, a drop landing on his cheek before Harry started wetting himself, soaking his blue t-shirt while he was still giggling. “Potty,” he had said, making grabby hands at his dad who stood frozen in place, desperately trying to ignore the growing hard-on in his briefs.  
  
That night, Louis has cried himself to sleep, disgusted and ashamed.

+++

Louis is picking up Harry from football practice, carefully manoeuvring his small blue VW through the muddy, sad excuse of a street to the football pitch. It’s been raining all morning, barely stopped before training started which didn’t stop Harry from being overly excited. Louis’ll never get why they would train outside in any wind and weather when they were still so young but Harry loves it and Louis isn’t exactly good at denying him something.  
  
When Louis’s car comes to a stop at the parking lot, his son is already waiting for him, patiently sitting on a wooden bench still clad in his football kit, legs dangling in the air while he’s humming a tune Louis can’t quite pinpoint. His curls are dry but his kit is soaked with mud, fresh grazes covering his thin legs and arms; practice must have been rough. Louis honks once, jolting Harry from his daydream before a wide grin spreads across his face. Hopping of the bench, Harry grabs his football shoes and jogs towards his dad’s car.  
  
“Hey peanut,” Louis says as soon as Harry opens the door on the passenger side, “how was training?”  
  
His son beams at him, sits down in the passenger seat and turns to shut the door, exposing the back of his usually white football jersey. The big black 18 under the word “Tomlinson” can hardly be seen under the layers of mud.  
  
“Great, Dad!” Harry replies. “Coach said that I’m getting better and better. But then Shaw fouled me and- I’m sorry my kit is so dirty, Daddy. He just tackled me and I fell and-“  
  
“It’s alright, peanut,” Louis tries to calm him down as he started the ignition. “We’ll just put it in the wash and it’ll be fine.”  
  
“I hurt my knee a bit, Daddy.”  
  
“Ouw, baby,” Louis puts his hand on Harry’s thigh, lightly caressing the pale flesh there, “I’ll have a look at it as soon as we’re home, okay?”  
  
“And I think my back is all dirty.”  
  
“Don’t worry, babe.”

+++

As soon as Louis is through the door, he drops Harry’s small duffel bag by the frame and kicks his shoes off. Haz makes a beeline to the bathroom, his shoes leaving a trail of dirt behind him. It doesn’t take long till the door opens again, Harry’s head peeking out.  
  
“Daddy, can you come and look at my knees?”  
  
“Sure, peanut,” Louis says, making his way through the hallway.  
  
Harry opens the door completely to let his dad enter the small room and sits down on the toilet lid, his legs dangling again. His dirty football kit is piled in a messy heap next to the sink. Louis kneels down in front of him, resting his hands on Harry’s thighs, gently rubbing them, before he trails them down to his calves, straightening and bending Harry’s knees.  
  
“Does this hurt love?” he asks, searching Harry’s face for any signs of pain.  
  
“No, Daddy,” Harry shakes his head, “it just stings from when I fell. Can you kiss it better?”  
  
“Of course, peanut,” Louis leans over, slowly pressing several tiny pecks first on Harry’s right, then on his left knee. “All better now?”  
  
“Thanks, Daddy.”  
  
With one last pat to his thigh, Louis gets up, extending his hand to open the shower cubicle.  
  
“Hop, hop, little man, you’re all dirty,” he jokes before he ushers Harry inside.  
  
“Can we shower together, Daddy?” Harry asks as he pulls off his underwear, throwing it on the pile by the sink. “My back is all dirty and I don’t think I can reach properly,” he explains, looking up at his father with big innocent green eyes.  
  
Usually, Louis avoids joining his son as children tend to pee in the shower no matter how often their parents tell them not to and Louis knows better than to trust his body. He had a lot of awkward boners when Harry was still young and didn’t think about why his dad’s willy suddenly looked so funny. That is until one day he intensively stared, brows furrowed and actually looked like he was about to say something; so Louis just stopped. He told Harry he was a big boy and big boys could shower alone. Since they don’t have a bathtub anymore, he isn’t exactly concerned about his son drowning, typically stays in the bathroom to shave while Harry washes his little body anyway, just in case.  
  
“Daddy?”  
  
Harry’s voice interrupts Louis’s train of thoughts, makes him snap back into reality. His little boy is still looking up at him, his hands reaching for Louis’s right one, pulling him towards the shower.  
  
“When I fell my shirt rucked up and-” he lets go of Louis’s hand and turns around, exposing his back to his dad, “you see?” Helplessly, his small hand tries to reach the part of his back covered in mud and scratches.  
  
“I see, love,” Louis eventually says, “just give me a sec,” with that, he pushes Harry into the cubicle, shuts the opaque door and walks to the sink. Splashing some cold water into his face, he gives himself a prep talk – Get your shit together, you’re his father, for fuck’s sake! – before he rids himself of his clothes and eventually joins Harry in the shower.  
  
The warm stray of water hits his chests as Harry spins around, beaming at his dad, showing off his missing tooth, strands of wet almost straight hair blocking his view, “I already washed my hair,” he proudly announces and thrusts a loofa and his shower gel into his dad’s hands before he spins around again. Harry starts rambling about today’s training session as Louis pours the gel onto the blue loofa and begins to scrub Harry’s delicate back until it’s shiny as new, grabbing Harry’s left arm to wash them as well and ends up soaping Harry’s whole body.  
  
Kneeling in front of his son, who still excitedly talks about football, Louis carefully runs the loofa up and down Harry’s legs, occasionally lifts one of them to properly scrub his feet. He kind of missed this, he thinks. Not being near Harry while they’re both naked – God forbid – but he feels needed and Harry’s has grown up far too fast anyway. It’s hard to see your baby boy so independent and though he’s obviously proud of him for being so mature for his age, there’s still this aching in his chest which longs for those moments where he lay on the couch with a tiny bundle sleeping on his chest, drooling all over his shirt.  
  
“F-Fudge… Daddy,” Harry suddenly urges, making Louis halt and look up.  
  
“What is it, love?”  
  
Harry’s hands fly to his crotch, pressing slightly on his tiny dick, “I need to-“ before he can finish, though, a tiny spurt of wee escapes, flowing through his fingers then dropping onto Louis’s wrist which still hold onto Harry’s leg. Shocked, Louis watches the golden liquid trickling over his son’s hands as he feels his heart beat quicken, blood suddenly rushing downwards.  
  
“I can’t hold it, Daddy. I’m so, so sorry,” Harry nearly whimpers, shame evident in his voice as the flow continues.  
  
“Don’t worry, peanut,” Louis forces past the lump forming in his throat, trying to ignore his hardening cock, “it’ll be washed away quickly.”  
  
The smell of urine slowing invades Louis’s senses, makes his head spin and cheeks flush while he’s stubbornly tries to wash his son’s leg, though his hands would much rather run through the piss running down Harry’s legs before they coat his aching member in the liquid. He feels tears prickling behind his eyes, too disgusted by himself to feel Harry’s curious gaze on him. This is his son, he’s eight, he’s a child, it shouldn’t turn him on; what a sick, twisted man is he? A choked sob escapes him as he gives up and sits back on his haunches, dropping the loofa to subtly press the heels of his hands onto his eyes.  
  
“Daddy…?” his son voices hesitantly, his small hands reaching out.  
  
“Daddy just got some splashes of your shower gel into his eyes,” Louis easily lies. Dropping his hands into his lap, he looks up at his son, trying to give him a reassuring smile, his lips lightly trembling. However, it is obvious that Harry doesn’t believe him. His brows are still furrowed as he drops to the floor and crawls into his father’s lap, giving him a bear hug and a peck on his cheek.  
  
The shower is still running which Louis is thankful for, the remains of Harry’s accident are washed down the drain as Harry gives his dad a squeeze before he shifts in his lap to look him in the eye. Louis can hardly contain a groan as his son’s bum presses down on his erection.  
  
“Is it… Is it because your willy got bigger, Daddy? Does it hurt?” Harry asks innocently, cheeks blushing as he averts his eyes, quickly glancing to their crotches before he meets his dad’s blue eyes again.  
  
For a moment, Louis just stares at his son, contemplating what to tell him but his head seems empty this time, no appropriate excuse available. Ashamed he looks down, gripping his son under his armpits to lift him off his lap, Harry’s weight too much on his throbbing cock. He swallows thickly as he gets up as well, grabbing the loofa before awkwardly holding it in front of his groin, terribly failing at hiding his dick.  
  
“Yes,” he eventually croaks and feels a flush spreading over his face, down his neck. His ears feel like they are on fire as he admits one of his darkest secrets to his young son. “It sometimes happens when you really, really like something, love. It doesn’t hurt though, love.”  
  
Harry looks at him in awe, trying to process what he was just told, his brows knitting in concentration. “Does that mean you like my wee-wee, Daddy?”  
  
Louis only nods.  
  
“Why do you like my wee-wee, Daddy?”  
  
 “I wish I knew, love,” he replies defeated. “I just do.”

+++

After that incident, Louis makes sure to avoid his son in the bathroom at all costs, even shaving while Harry is taking a shower becomes too much. He has spent several nights tossing and turning, trying to figure out how to properly explain to Harry, why those things happen, wondering whether giving the Talk may be too early – obviously it is. In the end, he came to the conclusion not to talk about it anytime soon again, hoping that his little boy isn’t traumatised for the rest of his life. 

+++

It is only a couple of weeks later, Louis hasn’t thought about that day in a few days, slowly becoming at ease again, occasionally even sneaks into the bathroom to make sure Harry is alright.   
  
He is taking a shower on his own, trying to relax as the warm stray hits his tense muscles. The even drizzle is gradually blocking out the world and he gets lost in his thoughts, the shopping list, that upcoming event at work. He doesn’t realise that the bathroom door opens and a very naked Harry tiptoes in. Only when the opaque door slides open and cold air hits his chest, his eyes spring open, surprise written all over his face.  
  
“Haz, what are you doing here?” he asks as his son climbs into the shower cubicle with him and shuts the door again.  
  
“I need a wee,” he replies, grinning widely at his dad, “and you like my wee-wee and you’re in the shower,” he trails off.  
  
Shocked, Louis looks at his son who obviously doesn’t know what he’s saying. Maybe he should have sat him down and explained in every little detail how wrong it was, that this couldn’t happen again. But he hasn’t, so he has to deal with it now.  
  
“Peanut, that’s not right,” he starts, only to be interrupted by his pouting son.  
  
“But you like it,” Harry insists.  
  
Louis sighs heavily. “No….” he intends to go for stern, but his body is already failing him, his throat going dry as his hands start to shake. “It’s not right, Harry,” he argues weakly. Yet just the thought of his son pissing on him has his blood rushing down south, his dick slowly stiffening as Harry’s gaze drops to his dad’s groin, a mischievous grin curling his lips.  
  
“See, you like it. So let me. I want to be a good boy for you, Daddy. Why won’t you let me?”  
  
“Peanut…” Louis feels drained, long stressed nights have taken its toll on him and slowly his willpower is fading. Even though his mind knows it’s terribly wrong, his body is screaming for the offered attention and before he notices a faint “okay” is slipping from his lips.  
  
Harry beams up at him, happy that he can give his daddy a treat after those weeks full of worry written over his face.  
  
“But… can I try something?” Louis tentatively asks as he drops to his knees, sitting on his haunches.  
  
“Of course, Daddy,” Harry cheers, not grasping how wrong this situation is.  
  
“Can-,” Louis swallows around the lump in his throat, suddenly feels his skin crawl, too tight around him, “can you pee in Daddy’s mouth, love?”  
  
For a second, Harry looks taken aback, but he wants to be a good boy for his daddy, so he gives him a tight nod and steps a bit closer, grabbing his small dick and aims at his fathers’s face. Louis opens his mouths and shuts his eyes, greedily waiting for the warm liquid to pour out of his son’s cock. His right hand teasingly travels up his thigh before it rests on his semi hard dick, anticipation making it twitch as his fingers loosely curl around it.  
  
Harry’s breath hitches as he eventually starts peeing into his dad’s mouth, mesmerised staring at the golden stream, his wee-wee pooling on his dad’s tongue before it starts trickling down the corners of his mouth, flowing over his chin where it collects before it eventually drops onto Louis’s broad chest and making its way down towards his groin. A suppressed moan escapes Louis, making him gargle with the piss, more of it spluttering out of his mouth.  
  
Louis feels the warm liquid running down his body, burning his skin. He opens his eyes to look at Harry, finding him with flushed cheeks and dark eyes looking back at him. He didn’t notice before but his chest was already heaving, his cock lying heavy in his hand as Harry’s streams gets weaker and weaker, stopping in the end. Not breaking Harry’s gaze, he shuts his mouth, feels droplets of it run over his lips in the process and then swallows.  
  
Harry bites his bottom lip, teeth carefully kneading the plump red flesh as he clumsily sits down in front of his dad, gaze dropping to his aching member. He kneels on all fours but then his right hand reaches out, cautiously trailing his fingertips over his father’s hot length. A moan escapes Louis as Harry touches him innocently, a shudder running down his spine  
  
“I did that,” Harry states fascinated. “How can I make it go away, Daddy?“ Big green eyes lock with Louis’s hooded blue ones as Harry curls his hand around Louis’s girth, just like he saw his daddy do earlier.  
  
“Do I have to press it?” he asks as he give Louis’s a curious squeeze, eliciting a moan from his father.  
  
“Well, you can rub it gently,” Louis explains, voice already husky, “or you can kiss and lick it like a lollipop.”  
  
Louis is sure he’ll regret this but his mind is too dazed to fully comprehend what he’s doing. He watches his son leaning forward, feels his dick twitch as he realises that Harry is in fact about to lick it like a lollipop. Hot breath ghosts over his glistening head, which is already leaking precum, teasing Louis as brown curls start to tickle his groin. It looks obscene, seeing his baby boy bend over his cock.  
  
Tenderly, Louis’s right hand slides up Harry’s left arm, over his neck before it gently fists in his curl, not pressing him down, just telling him he’s there.  
  
Apparently that was all he needed, Harry immediately responds, his tongue darting out and experimentally flicking over Louis’s tip, lapping up the clear liquid before he leans farther down, sucking open mouthed kisses into the smooth skin. Getting bolder, he trails his plump lips down Louis’s shaft, nuzzles between his balls before he licks a fat stripe along the vein. Louis groans in response, already feels the heat coiling in his abdomen as he tries to control his hips, not wanting to buck into his son’s mouth as arousing as the thought of choking him may be.  
  
He feels teeth grazing his taut skin as Harry’s smiles proudly at himself, enjoys the slight drag of them adding to the friction.  
  
As Harry’s reaches the head again, he firmly puts his lips around them, teasingly sucking as his tongue caresses Louis’s slit; Louis’s hips jerking despite the effort. Lightly tugging several times, Harry tries to find a rhythm for his hand that goes with his sucking. Clumsily, his jaw goes slack though, spit drops from his lips, leaving a wet trail as it runs down Louis’s shaft, who is hyperaware of the saliva pooling on his balls although the shower is still running. Louis shudders, breath hitching as Harry enthusiastically continues swirling his tongue around his dick. A content hum escapes him as the hand in his wet hair tightens his grip.  
  
“Haz”, Louis moans hoarsely as he let his head fall back, a thump echoing through the shower as it hits the wall.  
  
Questioning Harry looks up at Louis as he pulls off, yet doesn’t stop pumping his cock as his eyes trail over his father’s trembling body, taking in his flexing abs every time his thumb brushes of the tip. Uncontrollably bucking his hips, Louis gently swats Harry’s hand away and replaces it with his own, tugging at his cock as his left hand reaches out and caresses Harry’s cheeks. His thumb insistently presses against Harry’s deep red lips until he opens his mouth, pushing in. A tongue immediately darts out, tenderly licking the digit before Louis carefully applies pressure on Harry’s teeth, forcing his jaw open.  
  
“Stay…,” he grunts, his right hand erratically tossing his dick, hips constantly bucking into his fist. Obediently Harry’s jaw goes slack, patiently waiting for what’s going to happen. His eyes never leave his father’s face, locking his gaze as suddenly, Louis’s hips stutter. A throaty moan escapes him as his dick starts pulsing, shooting white streaks of come all over Harry’s innocent face who’s shut his eyes in surprise.  
  
Slowly blinking, Harry tries to open his eyes despite the come hanging on his lashes.  
  
“What is that, Daddy?” he asks nosily, carefully wiping some of the creamy liquid off his face to inspect it. Louis just watches, still panting and completely blissed out as his son first sniffs and then licks at his cum, eventually wiping more of it off and licking his fingers clean, releasing them with an obscene plop which absolutely doesn’t fit the innocent, happy expression on his face.  
  
“Do you need cuddles, Daddy?”  
  
Akwardly, Harry tries to get up in the slippery shower and crawls into his father’s lap. Louis lazily puts his arms around his waist and pulls him closer, away from the stray of water as he places tiny kisses on Harry’s wet curls.  
  
“Thanks, love,” he whispers, faintly  
  
It doesn’t take long, though, and Harry starts squirming in his lap and as Louis eventually comes down from his high, he notices that tiny bulge poking into his lower stomach. Gently, he puts Harry at arm length to get a proper look at it, finding his son’s tiny dick was, indeed, hard.  
  
“Is it uncomfortable, love?” he coos, running his hands up and down Harry’s side to calm him down.  
  
Harry just blushes and nods.  
  
Slowly, Louis right hand trails over his son’s tummy as he places a kiss to his forehead, “I’ll help you then.”  
  
As Louis’s fingertips gently reach down to Harry’s member, his son gasps, throwing both arms around his father’s neck and pressing close to his body and into the touch.  
  
“Did you like what we did, peanut?” Louis asks, leaving kisses over Harry’s temple as his fingers fondly caress this Harry’s beautiful small dick.  
  
Harry nods against his neck, shivering and gasping as his daddy applies just enough pressure to make it feel good again.  
  
“Will you make white stuff come out of me, too?”  
  
The innocence in Harry’s voice kills Louis.  
  
“I’m afraid you’re not old enough for that yet, love,” he breathes hotly over his son’s ear before he starts licking its shell, causing Harry to moan as his finger’s still work carefully over his shaft, softly flicking the head every now and then.  
  
Louis is almost getting lost in the moment again, feeling hot all over as Haz suddenly goes taut in his arms, whimpers loudly before he goes limp, snuggling into his father’s chest.  
  
Pressing several quiet I love yous into Harry’s hair, Louis carefully withdraws his hand, placing it on Harry’s back instead where he soothingly starts rubbing his thumb in circles.  
  
“Love you too, Daddy,” is the last thing he hears before Harry starts dozing off and leaves Louis with the task of getting them out of the shower without waking his precious son up.  
  
Great.


End file.
